To Rise Above
by AdriannaRetin
Summary: It is after the War. Voldemort has won. But there is an obstacle. A group of people, with one goal; to rise above while learning how to deal with the aftermath of death, hate, and learning how to love again.
1. Executions at dawn

A/N Hello! My name is Adrianna or Adri, whichever you choose to call me. I'll do a *quick* introduction to my story, and then we'll begin!  
  
It is after Harry's graduation from Hogwarts. The Wizarding World and the Order of the Pheonix had fought the war for three years. Then, it seemed as if the good would win, and that they were on their way to victory. Then Hagrid was killed, betrayed by Peter Pettigrew, just as James and Lily had been. More deaths followed. Dumbledore, Snape, Ginny; the good faltered and lost some of their most important people. In a hopeless battle, Voldemort finally took over. In the two months that have followed, Hogwarts has been destroyed, and Voldemort has issued an order; death to all Muggle-Borns. Many have gone into hiding, but it is difficult to hide from such a powerful wizard. But the Death Eaters have another obstacle; Dumbledore's Army has been formed again.  
  
~*~  
  
Petra Fairweather woke with a start. Outside, she heard the screams of the Austens across the street. Jumping out of bed, careful to make no noise, she peered through the curtains of her bedroom window. Death Eaters, dressed in their long black cloaks and masks, exited the house, pushing the Austens through the door. Following them, people she knew, but had not seen for two months, were two Muggle-Borns; Justin Flinch-Fletchley and his younger sister Marina. Petra gasped out loud. Justin, now 18 , picked up his small sister. The shouts and commands of the Death Eaters cut Petra's heart.  
  
As quickly as it had started, the Death Eaters had taken their prisoners and Disapparated. Dropping the curtain and gripping the windowsill, her eyes closed, Petra tried to get her breath back.  
  
She'd known Justin. Barely, because she had three years behind him at Hogwarts, and in a different house, but he had been Prefect, and going out with one of the other Ravenclaws in the year above. He could have been something really good to this world, she thought. Many of them could have.  
  
But they weren't allowed to, she reminded herself. It had been two months ago that she, and the rest of the Wizarding world had heard the order. All Muggle-Borns were to be round-up and executed. Dumbledore's Army, an underground movement Petra and her father were secretly part of, had been quick to act. Although she herself didn't take part in hiding the Muggle- Borns yet, others had hidden them quickly.  
  
Angry that almost none of them had been found, Voldemort sent out a new order; he had ordered that not only the Muggle-Borns be killed, but those hiding them as well. There would be five more executions at dawn today, Petra thought bitterly.  
  
Glancing at the clock beside her bed, she swore at the long-gone Death Eaters. It was 4:30 , too early to be awake. She lay down on her bed and stared at the ceiling until the first rays of sunlight lit her room. Then, she got up. She had a delivery to make today.  
  
~*~  
  
Now sitting at her kitchen table, Petra poured milk into her cereal bowl and picked up the Daily Prophet. She just as soom dropped it from disgust. This was not real news, not like the news she got from meetings. This was Death Eaters word, their attempt to brainwash the public. She glanced at the names under the articles. She made a tutting noise. Just as she had expected, all the articles were written by important Death Eaters, the ones right inside Voldemorts inner circle. She sighed, and started to eat her cereal.  
  
Footsteps on the stairs told her ears that her father Aaron was up. He entered the kitchen and smiled at his only daughter.  
  
" Goodmorning Petra," he said.  
  
" If you can call it good," she replied, in a much less cheerful voice.  
  
They ate their breakfast in silence for a while, until Petra couldn't stand the silence.  
  
" The Austens and Flinch-Fletcheys are dead by now," she said looking at her father with her dark eyes. His head snapped up from his cereal bowl.  
  
" What are you saying Petra?"  
  
" You know what I'm saying. They found them last night. Death Eaters raided their house and found the Flinch-Fletcheys hiding there.Look for yourself, no one's left. "  
  
" How do you know this?" her father asked carefully.  
  
" Because I saw," she snapped. Quickly, she stood up and walked to the window.  
  
" They're not safe in our world, Dad. They need to go to the Muggles. I don't think our organizers realise the danger they're in hiding here. It's too easy for the Death Eaters to find them. Why can't I help them hide in a better place?" she cried.  
  
" You're too young Petra. They show no mercy. Nnot even for young, pretty girls like you.You're in enough danger just having your photo in that photograph! Besides, Muggle-Borns belong here. We can't send them away."  
  
" And how are they a part of this world? How are any of us part of it? Is it because we have magic in our blood? What good is it if we cannot use our wands? Do any of us belong here anymore?" She took a deep breath and calmed down.  
  
" I might not have been in Gryffindor, " she continued in a hushed voice, " But that doesn't mean Ravenclaws aren't brave. That I'm not brave. I want to do more. Next meeting I'll tell them that. You can't hold me back simply because Mum was killed. She died for a reason, and I'm going to do what she couldn't."  
  
With those words, she picked up a package on the table and went back upstairs.  
  
~*~  
  
Standing in front of her mirror, Petra looked at her disguise with approval. It was the fourth time she'd used this one, and soon she'd have to use another one. This time, she was going to be a Muggle Nurse. Dressed in the uniform and placing a stethescope around her neck for good measure, she certainly looked the part. Her fake Muggle identity said she was Carol Merriton, 21 years old. She hoped she looked that old. If stopped by Death Eaters for any reason, they wouldn't know she was Petra Fairweather.  
  
For her delivery, she was to bring fake identities to a DA member in Cambridge, about 75 kilometres away from her town of Norwich. She would take a Muggle train as far as possible, but would have to bike 7 kilometres as to discourage anyone following her.  
  
For the last touch, she placed clear contacts in her eyes, something the DA had recently recieved from their contacts in Bulgaria. They gave her the ability to see through invisibility cloaks, so that she would see every Death Eater either watching or following her.  
  
She hid the identities in her bra, socks, and her bag, then walked back downstairs. Her father was still sitting in the kitchen. She kissed him on the cheek and he nodded his head to let her know he'd let her do what she wanted to help.  
  
" I have a delivery to make in Cambridge, Dad. I should be back by 3:00."  
  
She walked out of the door and looked for Death Eaters outside her house. There were none. As if the world she knew was not falling apart, as if life was normal, and most importantly, as if she wasn't doing anything she shouldn't, she waslked down her driveway. But she couldn't help glancing at the Austen's now-empty house. The Dark Mark, the disgusting green that it was, still hung over it. With the wand she wasn't supposed to have hidden beneath her sleeve, she muttered the incantation and the Dark Mark dissappeared. She could get into a lot of trouble for that, but they wouldn't find out, would they?  
  
An inexplicable rage filled Petra's body, heart, and mind when she remembered the events of last night. She couldn't stop fighting them now. The revenge she could have if only she had the chance... She'd kill them, kill them like they had killed her sister. She didn't care about the danger; she needed to fight the Death Eaters until peace was back in the Wizarding World. She'd made up her mind. It was what she had to do. She'd help bring the peace.  
  
~*~  
  
Walking down the quiet street, Petra could barely stand it. The irony of all this, the irony of her whole life.  
  
The street was peaceful. No, it looked peaceful. The sun was rising over the rooftops, and the soft cooing of a morning dove could be heard. How were the Muggles ever to tell that they were soon going to be killed, imprisoned, enslaved, by those- those despicable- those... Even in her head Petra could not find a word that was mean enough to describe the Death Eaters.  
  
Like that arrogant fraud Lucius Malfoy. Malfoy, third in command, right behind the Lestranges. Petra had always hated him, and his son Draco. At Hogwarts, prancing around, giving threats to every person he might think had anything to do with the Order. Oh, she had wanted to slap that smirk right of his pale face every time she saw him. He wouldn't forget what his family had done to her mum. She'd make sure of that.  
  
He would probably be starting his training to become a Death Eater, following dear daddy's footsteps. He'd be killing some innocent Muggles to show he was worthy enough to serve Voldemort. Worthy my arse, that piece of scum, thought Petra.  
  
Finally, she reached the train station just as the sun had illuminated the entire city with early morning light. The month of August had been very hot, and already Petra could feel the heat through her nurse's uniform.  
  
Squinting he dark grey eyes suspiciously, she looked around the platform, looking for anyone who might recognise who she actually was. For an instant, she thought she caught sight of a wand carelessly placed in a pocket, but upon closer inspection, she realised it was a pencil, the tool Muggles used for writing. Personally, Petra thought that quills were much better. Especially sugar quills. She used to love those.  
  
But now was not the time to think of that. The moment of panic she had felt when she had seen the "wand" had been a reminder that there might actually be some danger in this trip. She very well might be seen. She'd be careful. She had to be. 


	2. Troubled beings

Far away, much more south in England, Ron Weasley stood pacing his small rented room just outside of Falmouth.The wooden floors squeaked under his large feet, and he was continuously running his hand throuhg his very red hair, making it stand on end. Life was hell. No doubt about it.  
  
The entire Weasley family had been forced to leave the Burrow to save their lives, and continue working for the DA in strategically placed locations. The Weasleys, after Muggle-Borns, were the most despised by Malfoy, so it was a wonder that only Gi-  
  
Ron stopped pacing. He had been about to say that only Ginny had died. Only Ginny had died? What kind of brother was he? Of course not only. It was- she had been his sister god damnit! His best friend until they were ten and eleven, when he had gone away to Hogwarts. And now she was dead. Killed, most likely. She had been missing for almost a year now.  
  
And poor Harry, who had mourned her death as much as he had, who had finally woken up, finally had the sense to fall in love with Ginny, only to have her die just before graduation.  
  
Of course, there was always the hope that she was still alive. There was hope. And it was there. But he could hear Hermione in his head, "Don't get your hopes up". He really did try not to. And even if she was alive, they had no idea what kind of state she might be in.  
  
Ron didn't even know where Harry was, the secret was hidden deep inside Lupin. He could have no contact with him whatsoever, it was too big of a risk. Harry had wanted Ron to be Secret Keeper, but Ron said taht was to be expected. He didn't want the Death Eaters knowing who the Secret Keeper was. He didn't trust himself. He still couldn't fight the Imperius.So Harry had chosen Remus next, and Ron desperatedly hoped that Harry wasn't going to relive his father's history. As much as he trusted Remus, something along the lines of trusting him with his life, Ron couldn't stop the nightmares from coming.  
  
Finished his pacing, Ron sat down at a wooden desk that was covered in scattered parchment on which codes, missions, urgent messages were written. If ever the Death Eaters found out where he lived and entered his apartment... well, he couldn't bear to think of that. One thing Ron had learned from this war was; don't think, it will only get into trouble.  
  
He glanced down at the piece of parchment he had been writing on.  
  
Dear Otter, it said, in his usual messy scrawl.Otter was Hermione's code name, because of the form her Patronus Charm took. Dipping his quill in ink, he began to write.  
  
Dear Otter,  
  
I can't say much in my letters as usual, but I still keep writing to you, just to keep you company. It must be boring, wherever you are, all by yourself with your cat. It's not boring here. And I know you're pouting because you're missing out on it, but I'd rather have you miserable than dead. We all would. And don't try to deny it either! Just remeber, I got an O on my Divination OWL. Don't give up hope it will finish soon, because we're working hard, and just think of what we can do when it's over. Quidditch, Otter! We can go to my team's games again, and you can wear the shirt, I'll buy you one. Actually, you must wear the shirt, even if I have to put it on for you. Not that I'd mind, course. Miss you!  
  
Cheers!  
  
Leopard  
  
He put down his quill and quickly changed the letter into code. Ron then threw the original into the fire, and watched it burn, standing next to the fire. He didn't mind the heat because of a cooling charm he had put up a long time ago. Gazing into the bright orange flames, he thought of Hermione, wherever she might be, far away from him. As cheerful as he tried to sound in the letters, it was very depressing being away from her. Over and over again, Ron replayed memories, daydreamed about how he, personally would go and get her and get her back, sometimes, when he reached a certain point of missing Hermione, he would have a conversation with her, speaking aloud and she would answer back in his head. He thought he was mad some days, he truly did. When, exactly, had he gone insane? And who wouldn't? For company, he had his over-active owl Pig, and the grumpy landlord with fly-away white hair and big ears, who was always threatning to kick Ron out because he had come home too late yet again, but never actually followed through on this. His best friend was in hiding, so was his- well his- Hermione because she would be killed by Draco personally, he never saw any of the Order face to face anymore, and he couldn't speak or see his family.  
  
He felt very much alone.  
  
In the Malfoy Mansion, Draco Malfoy also paced his room, but for a different reason than Weasley.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
Draco Malfoy wore a scowl. His blonde hair sleeked back, and his cold, ice- blue eyesburned with anger. Treading over the rich green carpet in his room, he was being watched by his new house elf, Nullen. Nullen's giant yellow eyes were fixed on his master, filled with a look of tremendous admiration. It was disgusting, really.  
  
" Leave," he spat. The house elf opened his mouth to speak, but Draco cut it off.  
  
"Go iron my dress robes. I'm meeting Pansy tonight. Bring me the silver ones with black fastenings," he ordered Nullen, who hastily bowed out of the room.  
  
Draco rolled his eyes at the door.  
  
"Pitiful," he muttered.  
  
Alone at last, he sat down on his bed and twirled his new ring around his finger. It wasn't fair that the Dark Lord had given him this, splendid and full of power though it was, but still refused to-  
  
A soft knocking at the door interrupted his thoughts. He was very tempted to not answer it, why should he be bothered? But he heard Nullen's voice, and knowing that damn house elf had mixed things up again, he stood and went to open the door. What a waste, that bloody thing was.  
  
Sure enough, there stood Nullen, holding two robes of silver, one in each hand.  
  
"Did Master-" he began, his eyes full of tears.  
  
" Master said the ones with black fastening, Nullen. Now hurry up, you waste my time. If they're not ironed in half an hour when I need to go pick up Pansy, you can keep the clothes."  
  
The house elf positively trembled, then bowed and scurried away. Draco watched him with contempt until he went around the corridor, then closing the door behind him, went to his ornate chair by his window. He could finally think things through.  
  
He couldn't understand why the Dark Lord was being so harsh with him. He had already killed six Muggles, respectively, and had been the main reason they had found the Austens and MacMillans. Of course, he'd almost told Him that they were at the Fairweathers across the street, but upon closer inspection....  
  
Draco was quite certain, however, that the Fairweather's daughter- what was her name?- oh yes, Petra, was doing illegal activity against them. Death Eaters were quite aware that there was a group working against them, but had yet to catch any. Perhaps she would be the first. It was too bad, she was a fine piece of work, that one; and he really would be dreadfully sorry if he had to turn her in. Draco gave the slightest snort of laughter.  
  
Suddenly, he had an idea. Maybe-just maybe- if he gave the Dark Lord one of them, then he would certainly honour him, accept him, and give him-  
  
Two knocks on the door startled him. Someone was, once again, at his stupid, bloody door. That ruddy house elf! Damn, he needed time to think!  
  
"Ye Gods, you ruddy house elf! What is it-" he began to shout as he opened the door. But he stopped suddenly when he realised that it was not Nullen, but Pansy standing in his doorway.  
  
"Something worng, Draco, dear?" she asked, looking ravishing in robes of finest silk.  
  
"No, I was simply.....irritated," he said. Pany smiled. He looked at her, his eyebrows knotted together.  
  
"Wasn't I supposed to pick you up at your house?" he asked her.  
  
" Well, yes, but I really did feel like staying home tonight," she said simperingly and walking into his room.  
  
" Then why in heavens name did you come here, woman?" Draco said, closing the door behind her.  
  
Pansy ignored him and lay down on his bed. Draco was quite annoyed... proof of how irritated he was; he usually enjoyed this.  
  
"You know what I mean, Draco," Pansy said. She kicked off her shoes, and curled her toes.  
  
"Pansy, now really isn't the right-"  
  
"Time?"  
  
"Well, yes."  
  
"Draco, sweetheart, whatever is bothering you, I promise this will help you take your mind off things,: Pansy said in a bossy voice. "Now come here."  
  
Draco didn't refuse. 


	3. Return to the House of Black

A/N Thank you to my reviewers, bookish ravenclaw and Spatula Chick. I'm glad you liked it! I don't have many things to say, just that I own nothing except the plot and my OC's.. JK owns everything else. I'm going on vacation soon, so depending on whether or not I finish the next chapter, you might get another one but then you'll have to wait two weeks because I'll be gone camping. The chapters are going to be much longer, it's just that I had to make the first chapter broken up so that I'd have more 'advertisement' in the beginning. Right. Well, that's all I have to say and please REVIEW!!!!!!!!  
  
"Ah, Miss Fairweather, pleased to see you could come," Mr. Weasley greeted her as she entered the House of Black. The late Mrs. Black's screeching could be heard around the corner, and footsteps thundering madly from room to room were followed by silence. Petra smiled; she'd rung the doorbell. This happened every time, and she found it somewhat amusing. The only thing she'd find amusing in this house however, she thought.  
  
Petra had been shocked when she had learned the truth and the whole story about Sirius Black. It wasn't that she still believed him to be a murderer, she'd seen Pettigrew with her own eyes, and Black had fascinated her, it was just the fact that they still.. Used his house. After he was dead. It was morbid, that's what. Petra always got the chills here.  
  
"Your father couldn't come?" Mr. Weasley asked her as he walked with her into a large room. Petra shook her head no. He was still on a mission. It was just as well, now he would be able to stop her from saying what she wanted to.  
  
They had entered a room full of comfy chairs and couches, which were half- full with people. Petra recognised many of them, either from the other meetings or from schools. There were some, she didn't know; newcomers, she assumed.  
  
There were several people she knew quite well. Remus, Mrs. Weasley ( the Weasleys lived at 12 Grimmauld Place as did Remus), Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, Mundungus Fletcher, Tonks, and Mad- Eye Moody were at practically every meeting, and they were in charge.  
  
Petra grinned as she spotted her two friends from school. Anne-Marie Hepburn was her best friend and fellow Ravenclaw and, she blushed slightly when he grinned at her, Andrew Fossil, Keeper extraordinaire. They were the only one's in the DA that hadn't finished their schooling, but were being given lessons by Remus Lupin every Saturday nights to keep up.  
  
They were an odd group, the three of them. Petra and Anne-Marie, although best friends, seemed to clash in their entirety. Petra, who had long layered black hair, looked somewhat dark next to Anne-Marie, whose chin- length blonde hair caught every light in the room. Her blue eyes, that always seemed to twinkle merrily, made Petra's grey and Andrew's hazel seem dull. Andrew seemed to even everything out, balancing the two others with brown hair, and freckles. None of them seemed to notice their differences however, and they were as good friends as anyone could be.  
  
Indeed, it was with a sad tone of voice that people told them that they reminded them of the legendary Hermione, Ron, and Harry. Petra hoped that they wouldn't ever have to be separated from each other like The Trio had been.  
  
With a clear of his throat, Mr. Weasley began an introduction for the meeting, congratulating those that had been delivering wands to witches and wizards this past week. Anne-Marie and Andrew both elbowed her at this, and she whispered at them to shut up.  
  
".... So, finishing up, does anybody have anything else to say?"  
  
Petra took a deep breath. She could convince them all right now. She had to. Courage from Gryffindor she didn't have, but she had hate, and a temper, and that was all she needed.  
  
"I do."  
  
" Ah! Yes, Petra, what is it?" Mr. Weasley asked cheerfully, although his smile faded a little.  
  
" I contacted the DA about this already. So I'm sure most of you already know. But for those of you who don't, the Austens and MacMillans were found and killed four days ago."  
  
There was a general outcry from the group. Apparently, many of them hadn't known.  
  
" Weasley! Why didn't you say something!"  
  
" I don't know what you call it, but I call it news!" said a little old witch in the corner.  
  
"Please. Silence. I was going to tell you later. I never expected Petra to say something so soon," he explained, holding his hands up.  
  
" Wait. There's more. I need to say something else. I think that we didn't clearly think through how easy the Muggle-Borns would be to find when we hid them. In wizarding homes? Please, it won't work. The places are too easy, too obvious! We need to hide them somewhere else."  
  
"Hear, hear," agreed Andrew.  
  
The rest simply looked at her. An awkward silence left little else to distract her from the feeling that she'd been a huge idiot. And what? Had she really thought they would all...  
  
" And how are we going to hide them all over again? It would be too-" Neville began to say.  
  
" The girl's right," growled Moody.  
  
" But it's impossible to re-hide them! Every Death Eater in the country is looking for them now!" Neville said.  
  
" It most certainly isn't, " said Remus. " They were looking for them before as well. It's no different. But I think that we must plan carefully. Take our time, this time. We should first of all-"  
  
" It can't really wait!" said Petra.  
  
" Your only fault has always been that you rush into things too quickly, you devise a plan so fast, you fail to see the conclusion. How you ever were put into Ravenclaw instead of Gryffindor, I'll never know," said the only Slytherin of their group.  
  
She saw red. Who did he think he was, telling her this! She was a Ravenclaw. The Sorting Hat had put her there.  
  
" Who do you think-"  
  
Mr. Weasley cleared his throat.  
  
"Ahem! I believe-"  
  
" We should hide them with the Muggles," said Luna. '  
  
"Exactly," said Petra with a firm nod of her head. " Now listen to me, Bole- "  
  
" I believe-"  
  
" They'd find them there, too!"  
  
" If I could just-"  
  
" But not if we-"  
  
" And you Slytherins!"  
  
" WOULD YOU ALL BE QUIET!!!" Mr. Weasley's magically magnified voice yelled. They all fell silent.  
  
" Filth! Creatures from hell! Get out of my house, you scum!" Mrs. Black began to scream.  
  
" I hate it when she does that, " grumbled Moody. He limped out of the room as fast as he could.  
  
" Quietus," muttered Mr. Weasley. Mrs. Black continued to screech at them, and they heard Moody yell, " Be quiet, woman!" She ignored him.  
  
" As I wanted to say beforehand, I believe that, with the necessary precautions, that we should indeed try to find new locations. And I agree with Luna, we should hide them with the Muggles, " Mr. Weasley was finally able to say.  
  
" They'll just as easily find them there," Neville said.  
  
" Not if we do Fidelius," said Tonks. Petra couldn't help but notice, that Remus looked at her with a sort of mad pride when she said that. She smirked a little. The rumors she'd heard about them....  
  
" Yes, that would work."  
  
"It's a brilliant idea," said Remus.  
  
" Splendid," agreed Anne-Marie.  
  
" How would we pull that off?" said Andrew exasperatedly. Petra knew why; he had never liked arguing. A true Hufflepuff indeed.  
  
" We're going to need those qualified to do it," said Mr. Weasley.  
  
" And a whole lot of luck," added Neville.  
  
" Yes, that too. But I think that luck's on our side, for this. We'll need to owl all those capable of doing this charm... make sure they wouldn't turn us in. Molly? We have a list of them, don't we?" Mr. Weasley asked his wife. She nodded her head.  
  
" Yes Arthur. I'll go get it now, " she replied and rose from her chair.  
  
Petra watched her go fondly. She truly loved Mrs. Weasley. For all her nagging, and caring, and worrying that she spent on all of them. She would love to be the one to help give her back her children.  
  
The return of Moody was the same of Mrs. Weasley's'.  
  
" We're doing Fidelius, Moody!" Tonks said cheerfully. She appeared quite pleased with herself. Moody merely grunted.  
  
" Well, as you all know, there are certain witches and wizards that have been approved to do Fidelius by the Ministry. Let's see. Ah, yes. Remus, Ronald Weasley.... well, we can count on them certainly. Also it says- oh these lists must be old, Dumbledore's still on them- Mundungus Fletcher, John Prewett, Hope Harrington and, ah yes, Draco Malfoy," Mr. Weasley read.  
  
" We can't use him, " said Molly quickly.  
  
" Of course not," he agreed, and scratched Draco's name off.  
  
" That leaves us with Remus, Ron, and Fletcher for certain, but I don't know about the last two. I suggest one of us goes and pays them a little visit. We're going to have a lot of work to do. We'll owl you all and tell you, but now, some of us have other things to talk about, and I daresay there's only a half-hour left until curfew. Remus, Neville, Tonks, and Luna, could you please stay behind?" Mr. Weasley said, and called goodbye to the rest of the people, who were slowly leaving the room. She wanted to stay, and could tell Anne-Marie wanted to as well, but they did need to get home soon, and Andrew was dragging them out, his face serious and tired- looking.  
  
They exited the House of Black and stepped onto the street into the much cooler night air. 


	4. Rumours

A/N Well, the next chapter is here, and it's long like I said it would be. Thankyou for reviewing, please keep it up! One thing people seemed to be confused about was the Fidelius and why they hadn't done that before. It wasn't that they didn't think of it, it was that they couldn't. Their wands were taken away from them, remember? Well, enjoy!  
  
~*~ He'd never felt so alone in his life. Not even when he had been locked in his cupboard for long periods of time or when everyone thought he had opened the Chamber of Secrets had he felt this lonely.  
  
Hell, he was so lonely, he'd probably appreciate Uncle Vernon's company. And if that didn't mean anything, well, then he had no clue anymore.  
  
Harry raised his head from his hands and reached for the table next to him. He put his glasses on his face and looked around the room, hoping for some miracle to come that would give him something to do. With no job, no people to talk to, and banned from using anything magical in his house, there was very little else to distract him from his feelings. He now understood Sirius' actions when his godfather had been stuck in his mother's house.  
  
But, at least Sirius had had people to talk to, Harry thought darkly.  
  
He sat up straight. How could he have just thought that? About Sirius? Sirius, who had been missing from his life for three years now, but not forgotten; no, he was far from forgotten. He thought namely about two people every single day, and it seemed as if he'd been thinking about them forever.  
  
Ginny and Sirius.  
  
They'd been gone for so long, and if there was one thing he could have asked for, it would be to see them just once more, to hear their voices once more, to hear Ginny's twinkling and Sirius' barking laughs.  
  
And perhaps now, while he was sitting here, his two best friends might be dead. Taken away from him. They'd already killed one Weasley, why wouldn't they kill another one?  
  
And he could be helping them. He should be helping them. He could be out there, right now, putting an Unforgivable on Malfoy, the man who had-  
  
Suddenly, he stood up, breathing hard. Give me strength, he thought, then ran at the door.  
  
BAM! He hit it with his shoulder, over and over again, trying to force it open. The magical wards would break at some point. They- Had- To- Let- Him- Out- Someday! He emphasized each wordwith a bang in between them.  
  
With one last bang, he slumped to the floor in defeat. There was a pain in his shoulder, and he knew it would bruise as always, but at the moment, he didn't care.  
  
" I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU ALL! YOU TOOK AWAY SIX OF THE PEOPLE MOST IMPORTANT TO ME AND LEFT ME WITH ONLY THREE! AND YOU LOCK ME AWAY! I WANT TO HELP!" he cried, screaming at the ceiling.  
  
His hand touched paper in his pocket. An envelope, a letter he'd never sent. Harry closed his eyes and breathed in. He knew this letter very, very well; he'd memorised it completely.  
  
Dearest Ginny, it began. Harry cringed. Just the sound of her name in his headsent knives through his heart. Although he tried, he couldn't stop the memory of the night he'd written that letter, the night before he'd gone into hiding.  
  
He'd been sitting in the living room at Hermione's house, his head bent over a single piece of parchment. Quill in hand, he'd been quiet for the whole part of an hour, despite the worried looks Ron was giving him. He'd been sitting there simply staring at her name and remembering. Then, as if suddenly realising something, he dipped the quill in ink and began to write.  
  
Dearest Ginny,  
I'm sitting here in Hermione's living room, just staring at your name. Your name, the strongest whisper in my heart, is killing me. Every time someone says it, or I read it, I feel like somebody's taken my heart and twisted it, and I'm haunted by a million memories of you. For example, do you remember the night, just before Easter break, the you and I flew up to the Top Tower and watched the sun set? If I concentrate, I can still see the way the sun changed you hair color, still smell your perfume, still feel the way you fit into my arms.  
  
I told you I loved you that night, do you remember? I hadn't even meant to, you know. With Voldemort rising as he was, I didn't want to give you reason to have hopes and dreams I couldn't fulfill, as much as I would have liked to. Looking back, I also didn't want to give them to myself. "I love you Ginny Weasley," I whispered. The way you looked at me then Gin, I'll never be able to forget it.  
  
You said you loved me too, do you still? Wherever you are, do you still love me? Beyond that veil, can you still think and feel things? Can you miss me? Do you miss me? There are so many questions I'll always want to ask you Ginny, and I'll never be able to.  
  
I feel so stupid, writing to you. Writing to someone who's been proudly claimed the first Weasley dead. But I needed to. I needed to talk to you, to pretend you're going to read this. And, if you really are as they say, dead, then surely you'll know how I feel.  
  
I'm going into hiding tomorrow. Soon, I'll have little else to listen to but my thoughts. Hermione's already in hiding, they want her dead. And Ron. They want to kill your brother Ginny. They want to kill all of you. Remus told me that we all need to go into hiding if we want to live. I don't care though, either way I'm going to win. He can never defeat me. I'm heading towards two different endings, whichever will happen I'm not sure. I'm going to kill Voldemort, or get to see you again. I'm not going to lose.  
  
The only thing keeping me alive and ready to do this is the thought that you might still be alive. That Lucius Malfoy went along with expectations and lied. That you're still his prisoner. I can only hope it's an elaborate trap where they kill me from the inside out. Someday Ginny, I'll see you again. I can only hope it's soon.  
  
I love you with all my heart and I always will,  
  
Harry.  
  
~*~  
  
The moon was out tonight, and Remus could see how close it was to the full moon. He sighed, dreading the day coming up. Tomorrow, he wouldn't be sitting here in the kitchen, he'd be up in his room, a hairy monster who would really like to eat someone, deep inside.  
  
The man who now made his Wolfsbane potion didn't do it quite as well as Severus had once done. Now, he could still feel a little bit of the werewolf in him, wanting to come out and attack. So he locked himself in, and told everyone to stay, just in case.  
  
Just in case. It seemed that now, everyone always thought along those lines. They had to be ready for everything, absolutely everything that might happen. It wasn't a possibility to just go for a walk when you wanted to, because you'd have to tell someone in the house first, cast an Invisibility shield around you, and put on all sorts of extra gadgets, just in case. He couldn't wait for this bloody revolution to end.  
  
Molly entered the kitchen, and started the kettle.  
  
" Would you like some tea, Remus dear?" she asked, in a very strained happy voice. She was worried, he could tell. The lines in her forehead were deeper, and she was moving her mouth in the way she always did when she was about to complain about something. Remus took a deep breath. At least it would take his mind off things.  
  
" Yes, please, Molly," he answered.  
  
She served him the tea, even adding his milk and sugar for him. Lately, she had taken to mothering them all even more than usual, but he didn't mind. Nowhere else would he find someone who would mother him that way, so he took every thing she did with gratitude.  
  
Molly fussed with the tablecloth, smoothing it out and pulling it tighter, muttering softly to herself. Remus caught the words " too young" and "dangerous" and "shouldn't be allowed". Ah. He knew what this was about.  
  
" Quite the idea Petra had, wasn't it?" Remus said thoughtfully, looking at Molly over his teacup. He could practically see her patience break. She walked over to the counter and started to pull things out of cupboards.  
  
"And quite the temper. She never thinks things through, that girl. I agree completely with Neville when he said she should have been a Gryffindor. I worry about her Remus, she's never going to make it to her twenty's if someone doesn't smarten her up. And she'll drag the other two right in with her!" Molly said, slicing the bread and toasting it.  
  
"They're much too young Remus. Why we ever let them join in the first place. They're not finished school, they don't have enough experience, if there was ever a battle, they'd be hexed or worse in an instant!" she continued.  
  
"Things are different now. It's not a war anymore, and we need all the help we can get. If we didn't have every possible body to help, then Voldemort would be in charge forever. Besides, they're very smart. And age doesn't matter. Don't you remember Neville and Luna and Harry and all of them in their fifth year? They took on a whole group of full-grown wizards, Death Eaters no less. These kids are a year older than them," Remus consoled.  
  
" If Dumbledore were still alive he wouldn't have allowed it," Mrs. Weasley said firmly. She was now buttering toast quickly. She took a deep breath then continued.  
  
" I don't like Petra living all alone with her father. Who's to watch her when he's out doing something for us? He doesn't have time to even keep house properly, let alone raise a child. I know he tries his best, but maybe Petra should come stay here. Him as well. I'd feel a lot better knowing where she was, and then you two would have more time for her lessons. And Anne-Marie as well. We all know what kind of man her father is, and that dreadful woman who calls herself the child's mother is loving her new position in life. Poor dear."  
  
Remus watched her with an amused expression as she poured more tea and put a plate of toast in front of him.  
  
" Now I want you to eat this all up, you haven't been looking well lately and you're too skinny Remus," she said. Remus muttered his thanks and obediently ate his toast. However, he knew better than to make excuses for his weight, it would only bring her attention to it further.  
  
Remus stood up and stretched happily. He was in a much better mood than before, even though Molly was worried.  
  
" Well, Molly, I have a book I want to be reading and it's been a long day so I'm going to tuck in now."  
  
" Yes, have a good sleep, dear," she said off-handedly.  
  
Remus stooped over Mrs. Weasley's chair and kissed her on the cheek. He was tempted to say ' Goodnight, Mum', but satisfied himself by saying instead, " Don't worry too much about the kids, they'll be alright," then headed up the stairs.  
  
~*~  
  
It was a beautiful day and the sun was shining down on the beach and water, making the ocean waves glimmer and shine, alive with light.  
  
It was just the three of them on the beach. Her, Harry, and Ron, happy once again.  
  
The wind was blowing hard, creating whitecaps as far as the eye could see, and blowing through her hair.  
  
She was running around their stuff, trying to run away from Ron, who was laughing and trying to hit her with a tickling curse. She laughed as well, she was so happy. She, Hermione Granger was free! And it was wonderful!  
  
Harry was sitting on a blanket, picking up sand and letting it slip through his fingers. He was smiling and looking happy.. And something else. something he hadn't looked in a long time. Harry looked peaceful.  
  
"Harry! Get off your lazy arse and come help me catch her!" Ron said, stopping his chase for a moment.  
  
Harry grins and stands up, pulling his wand from his pocket.  
  
" You'd better run Hermione," he warns.  
  
She laughs and runs towards the water's edge.  
  
"Catch me if you can the, Harry!"  
  
She shrieks in surprise as Ron grabs her around the waist and tackles her to the ground. They laugh and Ron leans over and whispers in her ear.  
  
" I love you," he says. This sends shivers down her spine, and although she's stopped laughing, she feels happy all over.  
  
Soon, Harry joins them and flops down next to them. They all laugh and try to catch their breath, caught up in a moment of happy bliss.  
  
Suddenly, they hear a new laugh. It's a happy, floating laugh, that's forgotten and yet familiar to Hermione.  
  
It's Harry who sits up first, staring over at the sandy dunes.  
  
" Harry, what is it?" Hermione whispers, sitting up and looking in the same direction. She stares in shock for a moment then grins and laughs out loud.  
  
" Ron! Ron, look! It's Ginny, Ron, look!" she cries happily, tugging on his sleeve to get him to sit up.  
  
And sure enough, there on the dunes is Ginny, exactly the way Hermione remembered her. Ginny laughs again and waves, Hermione's hit by a thousand emotions at once. Fear, love, happiness, shock. nothing could describe the way she feels right now.  
  
Ginny begins to run down the dunes and Harry quickly stands up and runs towards her at full speed. Hermione's entire heart goes out to Harry at that moment, she can't imagine how he must feel.  
  
She watches as they get nearer to each other and stop a few feet away from each other. Harry grins and holds out his arms to her.  
  
But as the sky suddenly clouds over and it begins to rain, Ginny laughs again, and, with a POP! Disappears.  
  
Lucius Malfoy's voice suddenly fills the air, loud and cruel.  
  
" You won't be seeing your girlfriend for a long time, Mr. Potter. At least, not until Voldemort kills you," he says. Hermione is sensing a very big feeling of déjà vu. she's dreaming of the moment when they found out Ginny was dead.  
  
Harry turns around in a circle, looking for the voice.  
  
" What do you mean?" he yells. Hermione's heart twist suddenly. No, please, not again. Let her wake up, she doesn't want to hear it again!  
  
But as she continues to slumber on, Lucius Malfoy confirms.  
  
" She's dead, I killed her myself. Today is the day that I started killing off the Weasleys, tomorrow it will be another. I'll kill them all, Potter. All of the make-shift family you''ve created and your Mudblood friend as well. I'm going to kill off every single person who might be even a little bit dear to you, Potter, so that you have no one left."  
  
Harry sinks onto the sand and buries his face in his hands. Ron begins to run over to him but Lucius Malfoy appears in fromt of him as suddenly as Ginny had disappeared.  
  
" Avada Kedavra!" he cries, and in a flash of green light, Hermione's the only one left standing; Malfoy's disappeared and Ron's on the ground, not moving. Malfoy's laughter remains, but Ginny's its louder, happy and tinkling, broken only by Harry's sobs and curses.  
  
" You're next, Mudblood," she hears whipered in her ear.  
  
In a small wizarding settlement on an island off the coast of Greece, Hermione Granger suddenly wakes up in her bed.  
  
~*~  
  
The first thing she noticed was how Andrew and Anne-Mmarie seemed to have switched personalities. Anne-Marie was quiet and thoughtful. Indeed, she had her hands in her pockets and seemed to be looking at something the other two couldn't see. Andrew, happy about something, was on her other side and talking animatedly. He was acting playful and talking about Quidditch.  
  
" Fairweather, when this is all over, first thing I'm doing is bringing back Quidditch. I'm going to pull on my Puddlemere United shirt and grab my Beater's bat- Petra, tell me that you'll at least come flying with me. Come on," at this point he nudged her slightly, " I'll get you a shirt. It'll be fun. Merlin, I can't wait for this to be over!"  
  
Petra smiled at his cute ways. True, it would be nice to go flying with Andrew, but.... Right now, she was too worried about Anne-Marie to dream about the end.  
  
"You're awful quiet," Petra noted.  
  
" Hmm? Oh, yes. Well, I was just thinking," Anne-Marie said quietly.  
  
" Too bad you can't to more of it," Andrew teased, pulling on a strand of her hair. Petra rolled her eyes and put out a hand. Did he not have any tact, at all? Now was not the time to tease.  
  
" What about?" she asked.  
  
" It's just- I was just thinking about my family," she explained, clasping her hands in front of her like a little girl.  
  
" I live with evil people, Petra. My father's a Death Eater; yes, the very people we- I'm - trying to rid of power, and my mother truly believesVoldemort is the best thing that ever happened. Every time I go out for the DA, I have to lie. I need to lie about where I go, lie about what I believe in, lie about my friends, my whole life is a lie! Petra, I'm a lie. And now with Fidelius coming up, they're really going to notice something. And with the school coming up, I'm forced to be two people."  
  
Petra stopped suddenly and looked at Anne-Marie with shock and fear written clear on her face.  
  
" What did you say?"  
  
" I said that I have to be-"  
  
" No, not that, the part about the school..." Anne-Marie clasped her hands over her mouth for a moment, then took them away and put on a haughty look.  
  
"I- I;m not at the liberty to say."  
  
" Anne-Marie!" Petra complained.  
  
" What!"  
  
" Tell us," Andrew said, now joing the conversation, his voice matching Petra's own.  
  
" You're going to find out soon enough anyways, so stop pestering me! You two sound like children!"  
  
" Right. And you're a grown-up?" Petra demanded. She was not acting like a child.  
  
" Girls, please. This is completely irrelevant to the school. Anne-Marie, if we're going to find out soon, why not just tell us now?"  
  
"Because if I do-"  
  
" You guys! Look at the time! It's ten to bloody nine!" Petra yelled suddenly, reading a nearby church tower.  
  
" Aww, shit," said Andrew and Anne-Marie gasped and scolded him. They all began to sprint towards The Leaky Cauldron, Andrew at the front, as he knew London best, his dad had grown up there.  
  
" Let's just use a Muggle's fireplace!" Anne-Marie panted, pulling on Petra's sleeve.  
  
"Are you insane? That would be an interesting visit! Us, ' Hello, Muggle. How are you? If you don't mind, we're just going to light a fire in the middle of August, alright? You do have one don't you? Good. Well, cheerio! We're going to turn the flames green and then step into them and disappear! Thanks very much!' Yeah, that'd work real well, that would," she said sarcastically.  
  
" One of us would Obliviate them!"  
  
They's now reached the Leaky Cauldron. Dingy lights and the smell of smoke and alcohol welcomed them. It seemed as if everyone was looking at them, frozen in the doorway. Petra had to resist the urge to turn around and walk right back out. Instead, she whispered to Anne-Marie.  
  
" And which of us can do that properly?"  
  
" Andrew can," she said promptly, pushing towards the fireplace.  
  
" He can not!" said Petra. She was glancing at the person sitting in the corner; he had not taken his eyes off the group since their arrival.  
  
" What would you like to forget? Tom, can we use your fireplace?" Anne- Marie said. Petra was just about to ask Andrew to confirm this, but Anne- Marie silenced her with a look and indicated with her head to the people in the pub behind them. Ah.  
  
The clock now said 8:57. There was no way they'd each make it back to their own place, Andrew had to go to Scotland. And she definitely didn't want to stay here.  
  
" Oh, just all come to my house, there isn't time!" she said anxiously, trying to push the others ahead. If they didn't make it before curfew, they'd be splinched, then most definitely questioned and who knows what else. Anne- Marie voiced her thoughts, she sounded as worried as Petra felt.  
  
" We will be if you two don't be quiet. Stop all the chatter and go!" Andrew said, throwing Floo Powder into the pit. " Women! Always talking!"  
  
" Hey! I resent that comment! It was you who was-" Anne-Marie said, placing her hands on her hips only to be pushed into the fire.  
  
" Cough! Gairloch! cough!" she said, and soon she was spinning out of sight.  
  
"You next," Petra said, turning to Andrew.  
  
" No. Ladies first."  
  
"No, you."  
  
" No you!"  
  
" Honestly! Fine, I'll go!" Petra huffed and stepped into the fire. " Gairloch," she said clearly, and soon she too was spinning to her home.  
  
~*~*~*~ How was that? Do you guys like the longer or shorter chapters better? Also, I'm trying to make Andrew more like Remus. Any ideas?  
  
~Adri 


	5. Serpensortia Academy

A/N Anything you do not recognize from HP is mine, the rest is JK's . I own, Petra and her friends and the plot. That's about it.. At least for now. If you'd like to give me credit for my work, please e-mail me at adri_from_friesland@hotmail.com heh. Just kidding. I'm very sorry it took me so long to get this chapter up, but school's been keeping me very, very busy. I have rowing every day until six, and then I have homework, so I don't get in much time for my writing, which really sucks. I promise that this will have been the longest wait, you can expect a new chapter at the end of September.  
  
~*~  
  
Throughout her life, Petra would always remember that rainy afternoon in late August when Anne-Marie and Andrew were over very clearly. It had been the afternoon where she had almost given up hope, but hadn't. It had been a week since the last meeting, and a busy but boring one indeed. Anne-Marie and Petra figured that between them they'd made and delivered eight new identities, and three cases of wands. Andrew said that he'd been busy as well, but had been forbidden to tell with what. In fact, he mused, if he did, Remus had said he'd turn him into a hippopotamus, and Andrew then added that he didn't really care for being fat, so he wouldn't tell him.  
  
There had always been an unofficial rule with them that when someone was being secretive about work for the DA, they stopped talking about it, no questions asked. However, when someone was being secretive about schools.  
  
Anne-Marie still hadn't said anything about the school, and Petra had been trying very, very hard not to pester her about it, but Merlin knew she wasn't perfect. Sometime, okay, she already had, she was going to ask.  
  
Andrew, who was lying on the floor looking at an old Quidditch magazine, looked up at the other two, who were concentrating on playing chess.  
  
" It's a little depressing, isn't it? Last year we would have been getting ready for Hogwarts, excited about Quidditch and yet dreading exams. This year, we're only looking forward to the end, and that's not even in sight. If we don't have NEWT's, how are we going to get a job we want?" Andrew said.  
  
" You two will do exactly what you were planning to do before. They're sure to bring back Quidditch at some point, so you can be a Quidditch player. Anne-Marie's a Pureblood and has high status, so she'll be able to do whatever she wants," Petra declared, watching her knight smash the white bishop's head.  
  
" You can't play Quidditch your whole life. And you're a Pureblood as well," Andrew pointed out.  
  
" Yes, but they didn't like my mum very much, did they?"  
  
" It's funny isn't it, how we always-"  
  
"Screech!"  
  
Anne-Marie looked up, rudely interrupted by. an owl? Indeed, outside was two glossy black owls, pecking at the window to get in. They all stared for a moment until Anne-Marie stood up and opened the window and letting the owls fly in. They dropped the letters in front of Petra, knocking the pieces over. One of them gave a small, snobby hoot, then they flew out and left a different atmosphere in the room then the one they had arrived in. All three of them stared at the letters. Who would send them something by owl today?  
  
" I know what that is," Anne-Marie said quietly. Well, at least one of them understood the situation. She'd sat back down and had curled up, staring at the two letters.  
  
" One's for you," Petra said faintly, passing one two her. On it was written in black ink:  
  
Anne-Marie MacNair The Bed Gairloch Norwich, England  
  
The silence seemed deafening. It seemed as if the whole world were under a spell, because even the normally busy street was quiet. She couldn't stand it anymore and so she opened the envelope.  
  
Dear Miss Fairweather, it read. Petra and Anne-Marie exchanged glances. Anne-Marie slowly opened hers.  
  
Dear Miss Fairweather,  
  
We are pleased to announce that you have been accepted into Serpensortia Academy, the newest wizarding school in Europe. We have been planning this for quite some time and have taken certain steps to ensure that we exceed Hogwarts in every fashion. Enclosed is a list of school supplies you shall need. Term begins on September 3rd, please arrive at Malfoy Manor at 8:00 am.  
  
Sincerely,  
Lucius Malfoy, Headmaster  
  
Petra dropped the letter as if it burned. And, in a sense, it did. She stared at it, angry, and lost, and scared. What did this mean? She looked at Anne-Marie, and if she was looking for comfort she did not find it there. Anne-Marie was still curled up, and looked very sad. Instead of looking almost sixteen she looked. six. She appeared to not have even read the letter.  
  
" What does it say?" Andrew asked, pushing the magazine aside. The two ignored him.  
  
" So this is what you meant, when you let it slip, isn't it?" Petra asked quietly. Anne-Marie nodded and closed her eyes. She, if possible, felt worse at the sight of her best friend.  
  
" I should have told you, but I-''  
  
" What exactly is happening? Won't you two tell me anything?" Andrew said, standing up and taking the letter from Petra's hand. He read it over twice, and became twice as pale.  
  
" So this- this Serpensortia stuff is-''  
  
" For Purebloods only," said Anne-Marie, blushing.  
  
" And that's why-''  
  
" You didn't get a letter, yes. Now please, don't ask any more questions.," Anne-Marie said faintly.  
  
" Well! Isn't this just wonderful!" Petra cried. Why did everything have to be so wrong? It wasn't fair. " First, they destroy my school and killed my mum! Then they kill my neighbors. But before that, they take away Quidditch, and our wands, and generally make our lives suck! Now they want me to go to their school so they can make sure I go to their side, and so they can probably watch us every second of the day! No! Oh, no! I'm not going!" she said, hitting the bed.  
  
" Petra, do you really think you have a choice?" Anne-Marie said.  
  
" I don't CARE! IF YOU THINK I'M GOING TO GO AND BE TAUGHT BY MURDERERS YOU WERE WRONG! THEY WERE WRONG! I'M NOT GOING TO GO! THEY KILLED- they killed my mum," she finished, her voice breaking.  
  
Andrew came over and sat between them. They all sat there in silence, occasionally reading through the letter again.  
  
" Maybe0maybe we should go tell somebody," Anne-Marie suggested finally.  
  
" My dad's not here, and your parents already know, I'm sure, Andrew's parents' well, they're not really involved really. Who else can we really talk to?" Petra said, still wanting to think about her mum. Anne-Marie stood up and looked at them intently.  
  
" I-I think we should go tell Mrs. Weasley."  
  
~*~  
  
This house collects dust like Arthur collects plugs, Molly Weasley thought, wiping her dustcloth across the mantelpiece. She had had a long day, she'd been organizing all the children who would be undergoing Fidelius, and now she was catching up on the housework. The old house, although very grand and large indeed, had a very imminent coldness to it. She missed the Burrow; missed the homeyness of all the rooms, missed the brightness of the kitchen, missed the childrens' rooms. She missed being able to simply open the door of her child's room, which gave off strong impacts of their personality, and remember a million different memories about them. Molly Weasley missed her children, through and through, and couldn't help but hope that she would soon have two other girls here in the house.  
  
They had only been planning on four kids. But then the twins were born, and that brought them up to five, all boys. By then, Molly wanted a girl. So they'd had Ron. Another boy. By this time, she thought she would never have anything but boys, and she loved them all dearly. Her boys, they were. She had also figured that six was a good number. A nice even one, that she could easily boast about. I have six children, she used to say. Six rolled so easily off her tongue, it sounded so nice, so she didn't even think about the times when she'd so badly wanted a girl. That is, until one month after her and Arthur had a holiday in the south of France. Until she got her girl.  
  
Until she got her Ginny.  
  
~*~  
  
Her name was Heather. Of course, that probably wasn't her real name Ro immediately thought after reading the information.  
  
Go to 14 Rose Court. Ask for Heather. She'll take you and the parcels to the place. Cast the spell and then walk away, don't turn back. You can take a Muggle train home. Hopefully I'll see you sometime soon, Ron. I think it's going to be safe enough for us to come visit you. Visit you. Ron, don't come here. No matter when, don't come here. Your mother says hello.  
  
Best, Muggle  
  
So he was to do Fidelius. He'd done it before on Harry, but only that once. Ron wasn't really sure about this plan. After all, hiding them once had been hard enough. but again? His brain was telling him that it was too dangerous, that too many things could go wrong. After all, the two main creators in this idea had been Tonks and the youngest member, a girl named Petra. Merlin help us, he thought.  
  
The girl reminded him of Sirius, without the sense of humour. In looks and in personality, she reminded him of the man who'd done reckless things. As much as Ron had liked Sirius, he couldn't help but remember that Sirius had said it was the danger in things that made them fun.  
  
And what happens when it's not fun anymore? He asked himself. What happens when there is no more thrill in the chase? When I was 15 I felt it; I don't anymore. It's an awful felling now. It always seems as if they went about their day, planning or worrying about something. It seemed as if everything had a purpose, that everything counted. Nothing could be, nothing was. It wasn't fun anymore.  
  
Ron had reached Rose Court. It was dark out. And the windows glowed with a happy, yellow light. And here I am, saving the Muggles' butts and they don't even know it. He caught sight of a little boy in a window, playing with a model airplane, already in his pajamas.  
  
" I want to play too," he whined, then laughed at the sound of his voice. Over the months, Ron had gotten comfort pretending that his friends were here with him. He would have conversations with them, planning out carefully their reactions. He pretended his friends were here now.  
  
" Yeah, mummy, we want to plaaaaay," Harry would say, and maybe pull on Hermione's sleeve. Hermione would roll her eyes and say something along the lines of " Honestly" or " Boys"  
  
" Men," Ron corrected, the dream ending. Number 14 blended in perfectly. Light was coming from its windows, a porch in front of the house had two chairs and a table looking out into the garden. He reached up and rang the doorbell. You would have thought a herd of elephants lived there instead of humans, by the noise he heard.  
  
The door opened a crack and Ron saw two sets of big blue eyes peering out. The shortest gasped and slammed the door. Although muffled, her heard their voices.  
  
" It's him!" a girl said.  
  
" So what? Open the door, he's here to help me!" a boy answered.  
  
" And me!"  
  
"No, not you. They don't know you're magical yet. You're sort of safe."  
  
" No, mummy and daddy said I was like you!"  
  
" Children, what is it?" A woman's voice was added. That must have been Heather.  
  
" He's here," the little girl said.  
  
" And Chloe slammed the door in his face!" The sounds of people whispering followed and then the door opened. A woman in her mid-twenties stood in the doorway, dishcloth in hand. Ron smiled in an embarrassed sort of way.  
  
" You're early," the lady stated. Ron looked at his watch.  
  
" I wasn't told a time," he explained.  
  
" Oh well, come in," she told him, stepping aside to make room. Ron entered the house and looked at the two children. The oldest, a boy, was standing next to his sister. He had curly brown hair and blue eyes, with a light sprinkle of freckles across his nose. The little girl at his side was holding a stuffed dragon in her arms. Her long brown hair was tied in two plaits, and she looked about six.  
  
" I'm Heather," the lady said. " And this is Chloe and Michael," she added.  
  
" Hello," Ron said. The girl was looking at him with curiosity all over her face.  
  
" You're young," she said simply. Ron laughed. She was cute, even if she had slammed the door in his face.  
  
" How old did you expect me to be?" he asked. The girl considered for a moment.  
  
" Old," she decided. Ron looked at Heather and smiled. He got his first good look at her and almost dropped his bag. She looked like Hermione.  
  
His heart lurched suddenly. It was painful to see someone that looked so like her, almost as if she was here herself. It was as if someone was teasing him with her, as if to say, I know you want her, but guess what mate? You can't have her!  
  
" I'm sorry, but I wasn't told your name." Heather spoke to him. Ron shook his head and closed his gaping mouth.  
  
" Uh." he cleared his throat, " You can call me -Viktor?"  
  
Viktor? Wait, Ron my friend where did that come from? Your code name isn't Viktor, its Leopard! That bloody git. he's closer to Hermione than I am right now!  
  
" All-right," the lady agreed, looking at him strangely. Ron found himself thinking alternate universe thoughts. If you were Hermione, he felt like asking, and I was Viktor, would you be glad to see me? Or would you rather see Ron? This is ridiculous, he decided. Jealous over a boyfriend she had back in fourth year. And it's ridiculous that I'm having the kind of thoughts in my head. It's time to get down to business.  
  
" Do the children have their stuff packed? We should be leaving soon," Ron said. As the children gathered their things, and Heather turned off the lights, a strong feeling came over the group. Ron couldn't really tell what it was, but everyone else looked serious and was quiet. They must be feeling the same type of feeling that I am.  
  
So, with knots in their stomachs, and hope in their hearts, the group set out to a farm just outside the city.  
  
~*~ 


End file.
